


Snowglobe

by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Sick Victor, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseEndingParadox/pseuds/Nostalgia-in-Starlight
Summary: So skinny dipping in a rooftop pool in the middle of a Russian winter may not have been the best idea.Or.Wherein Viktor is sick with a cold and Yuuri spends the day caring for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The obligatory sickfic...

It’s eight-thirty in the morning when Yuuri jogs up the steps of their house, a box of breakfast pastries balanced precariously on one hand and a cup of coffee on the other. Behind him, Makkachin pauses to sniff a scent in the snow before bounding up the steps, tail wagging. Yuuri had passed by the little shop on his morning run yesterday and decided to treat himself (again). Besides, it’s off season. He’s earned a little self-indulgence. 

The house is quiet when he steps through the door. Viktor must still be asleep, then. Though he’s usually up by the time Yuuri returns from his run, he’d gotten pretty wild last night at the reunion with their friends. A few flutes of champagne too many, and (to Yuuri’s abject horror) his clothes had hit the snow covered deck of the hotel’s supposedly heated outdoor pool. And because their friends are all the absolute _worst_ – enablers, the lot of them – Yuuri had had to watch Viktor and Chris jump into the pool, naked as the day they were born. Only his idiot of a fiancé would go skinny dipping in a rooftop pool in the middle of a Russian winter. 

Yuuri places the box of pastries down on the kitchen counter along with the coffee and moves to flip the switch on the kettle. He feeds Makkachin while he waits for the kettle, opens the curtains, then sits down at the counter with a glass of water to check his phone. Phichit (who’s pretty much become the unofficial photographer at their wild parties) has already uploaded some photos from last night to his Instagram. They’re all outrageous. Yuuri blushes at the ones of himself line dancing, then snorts loudly in fond amusement at the one of Viktor and Chris, hair frozen in clumps and looking absolutely miserable climbing out of the pool. He taps the little heart icon for the picture just as the water finishes boiling. 

A few seconds are spent debating the type of tea he wants before dropping a bag into his favorite cup. The steaming mug feels wonderful in his hands and he takes a moment to breathe in the aroma of fresh green tea before snatching the coffee off the counter with one hand. “Leave those pastries alone, Makkachin,” he says over his shoulder as he makes his way up the stairs to the bedroom. 

Because it's slowly turning into a snowy day outside, with the curtains drawn tight it’s almost too dark in the room to see. Yuuri barely makes out the human-shaped lump on their bed, but feels his lips quirk in a smile all the same. It’s so unlike Viktor to sleep in like this, but his fiancé deserves a little self-indulgence too. It’s not like they have anything going on today anyway. Yuuri tiptoes to the bedside and sets the coffee down on the bedside table. He’s a little concerned when Viktor doesn’t so much as stir, but Yuuri supposes partying as hard as Viktor did last night would require recovery time. Still, he checks to make sure the other man is still breathing before retreating to the bathroom for his shower. If he feels slightly ridiculous for checking, that’s for him to know.

~o~

Yuuri takes his time in the shower. Living in St. Petersburg has its perks, but Yuuri won’t lie and say he doesn’t miss having an onsen nearby. Ridiculously hot showers, he’s discovered, are the next best thing. Having a cup of green tea afterwards makes it that much better. He’s come a long way in terms of self-confidence, but somedays, Yuuri thinks he’s only ever really settled enough to face the day when he’s had both. There’s a content smile on his face when he goes about pulling on pants and a shirt. Today will be a good day.

Of course, because he’s Yuuri, the universe only allows him the thought for a moment before trying to prove otherwise. As soon as Yuuri steps out from the bathroom, steam from the shower billowing out behind him, he knows something is…not right. The room is still dark, and Viktor is _still_ asleep, the cup of coffee on the nightstand sits untouched. Party or no party, Yuuri knows his fiancé, and this kind of sleeping-in is not normal.

He pads over to the bed, not bothering to be quiet this time. Viktor is curled up on his side, covers drawn tight beneath his chin. Yuuri can’t quite make out his face in the dark, but there’s a tremor to the body under the covers that he hadn’t noticed earlier. 

“Viktor?” Yuuri asks, reaching to place a hand on a trembling shoulder. When there’s no response, he tugs a little so that Viktor rolls onto his back. Viktor mumbles something under his breath at the movement, but doesn’t fully wake. Concerned, Yuuri frowns and places a gentle hand to Viktor’s cheek. He makes a sound of surprise when he feels the overheated skin. “Viktor, wake up, come on.” 

Viktor groans in displeasure, but opens his eyes. “Yuuri?” His voice is raspy, from overuse or from sickness or both. 

“Hey,” Yuuri says, reaching up to brush the hair out of Viktor’s eyes. “You okay?” He can’t help the amusement that tugs at his lips when Viktor blinks blearily in confusion. After all this time, there’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t appreciate just how _cute_ his fiancé can be. Even in sickness.

“I think…,” Viktor starts with another groan, but is cut off by a sudden coughing fit that shakes his whole body. Yuuri quickly moves to sit him up, climbing on the bed to offer support when Viktor sags tiredly into him. He presses a kiss to the silver hair and runs his hand up and down the long expanse of Viktor’s back while they wait for the coughs to subside. 

The coughs taper off and leave Viktor panting into the hollow of Yuuri’s throat. “I think,” he starts again, “that pool thing might’ve been a bad idea.” Despite himself, Yuuri laughs a little at the comment. He can’t help it. 

“I told you,” he quips fondly even though it’s a myth that the cold causes sickness and tightens his arms around Viktor when the man makes a miserable sound.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whines, “don’t laugh at me. It’s mean. I’m dying.” Yuuri snickers even more at that. He can’t see it from this angle, but Yuuri knows for a fact that Viktor is pouting at his laugh. Shifting so that he can actually see Viktor’s face, Yuuri leans down to brush a kiss over the burning forehead. 

“You’re always so dramatic, Vitya,” he teases, shoulders shaking in mirth when Viktor burrows further against his chest, hiding his face. 

“Yuuri….”

Viktor’s lucky he’s too cute. “Okay, okay.” Yuuri decides to take pity on him and stops teasing. Instead, he gathers Viktor’s lanky body close and just snuggles with him for a while. He runs his fingers through Viktor’s slightly damp hair, soothing. At some point, Makkachin pokes her head through their door to see what’s going on and Yuuri beckons the poodle over with a wave of his hand. With Makkachin settled on the bed next to them, the room once again falls into a dark, peaceful quiet. Yuuri tilts his head back against the headboard and thanks his lucky stars for this, for his new home, for his little family. 

Eventually, though, the peace is broken by another bout of coughing. Yuuri waits patiently for it to pass before attempting to untangle himself. His heart clenches painfully in fond exasperation when Viktor makes a pathetic sound of protest and clings to him. “I’ll be right back, Vitya,” he promises. “I’m going to make some tea for you.” 

Viktor shakes his head. “Stay with me.” He coughs again before Yuuri gets the chance to reply. Which…just makes Yuuri more determined to go make that tea.

“I’ll be right back,” he says again and extricates himself from his fiancé (who’s trying to become an octopus). “Makkachin will keep you company. But call if you need anything.”

He barely hears the “I need _you_ ” Viktor mutters with a huff, but it lights a smile on his face. Even though he knows he shouldn’t right now, Yuuri leans down and kisses Viktor anyway. Just a gentle press of lips. Just to let Viktor know his feelings are reciprocated.

~o~

Downstairs, the first thing that catches Yuuri’s eye is the box of pastries sitting untouched on the counter. His stomach growls at the sight and he allows himself a moment to pick one out before filling a small pot with water. He retrieves a ginger root from the fridge and makes quick work of slicing it up into thin pieces to be boiled. Though he’s not a good cook by any means of the word, he can at least make a pretty mean honey-ginger tea when the need arises. While he waits for the water to boil, he scarfs down the pastry and hums loudly in satisfaction. Then, he chooses two more to take upstairs. With the ginger cooking away in the pot, there’s nothing he can do but wait. The day certainly isn’t turning out to be what he’d imagined when he’d thought about having a relaxing day-in, but it could be worse. With how much Viktor’s been there for him over the years, Yuuri’s more than willing to take care of him for a change. It’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

He checks his phone again. There are two new texts; one from Phichit and one from Yurio. Yuuri answers the one from Phichit first because that’s obviously the more reasonable thing to do. He never knows what to expect from Yurio, even after all this time. 

**Phichit:** _What are you guys up to today? Sexytimes?_

Yuuri feels his face heat a little. Despite the fact that Viktor (and their terrible friends) call him “an Eros in bed”, he still can’t read or say suggestive things without blushing. He’s more of a do-it guy anyway.

 **Yuuri:** _Even if we were I’m not telling you >.< No. Viktor is sick. _

Phichit responds almost immediately.

 **Phichit:** _Ah. The rooftop pool got to him? Sorry to hear. Bet you wish you’re the one getting him right now huh, Eros?_

The text is accompanied by a winking emoji and suggestive (why?! Yuuri will never understand) eggplants. Face flaming, Yuuri taps out a series of playfully angry emojis back and leaves it at that. He decides to leave the text from Yurio for later. 

After a solid fifteen minutes of leaving the ginger to simmer in the pot, Yuuri adds some honey to the water and stirs until it dissolves. Once he’s ascertained that the tea isn’t too spicy, he ladles some into a mug and turns off the stove. Viktor comes stumbling down the stairs a moment later, looking a little faint, Makkachin following close. Yuuri skirts around the kitchen counter to get to him.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he admonishes gently when Viktor immediately clings to him again. Being sick always amplifies his already touchy-feely nature. 

“Wanted to be close to you,” Viktor mumbles around a cough and Yuuri sighs. Viktor “drama queen” Nikiforov. If Yuuri weren’t so in love, he’d be in trouble.

“I’m right here, Vitya,” he says, and wraps his arms around Viktor when the man sways a little on his feet. “Come on, go lie down on the couch before you fall over.” Viktor shakes his head, but doesn’t resist when Yuuri moves them toward the living room. Once they’re there, it doesn’t take much coaxing to get him lying down. Still, Yuuri’s glad he still has most of his extra strength leftover from the skating season and that Viktor is actually lighter than he looks. Speaking of, Yuuri takes the moment to look over his lover, noting with concern the dark flush of fever sitting high on otherwise pale cheeks. There’s dullness to his usually bright blue eyes and he looks more miserable than Yuuri’s seen him in a while. Despite it all, though, he’s still the most beautiful person Yuuri’s ever seen in his life.

Viktor coughs again, prompting Yuuri to remember the mug of tea still sitting on the counter. “Be right back,” he says quickly as he hurries to retrieve it and the plate of pastries that he’d set out earlier. They get placed on the coffee table while he snatches the blanket from the arm chair and gets a large glass of water for himself. Might as well get comfortable. Makkachin settles down next to the couch as if she had the same thought.

“Yuuri,” Viktor calls when Yuuri makes another trip to grab the box of pastries (because why not). He sounds like a puppy vying for attention. Yuuri has to stifle another urge to tease and hurries back as requested. 

“Sit up for a second,” he says to Viktor as he casts about for the TV remote. Viktor does with an exaggerated groan and Yuuri can’t help but actually snort in amusement this time. “You’re too much.” He plops himself down behind Viktor and wastes no time in pulling him close even as Viktor huffs indignantly. 

“You’re being mean again,” Viktor pouts, but belies his statement by snuggling closer, back to Yuuri’s front. “It’s cold.” Yuuri fumbles for the blanket and pulls it over them both. It’s almost too warm with how overheated Viktor’s body is, but it’s nothing Yuuri can’t stand. And it's a snow day outside; a little extra warmth is welcomed.

He rests his cheek on Viktor’s soft hair for a brief second before reaching for the mug of tea on the coffee table. “I can be meaner and leave you to suffer alone,” Yuuri teases even as he holds the tea carefully to Viktor’s lips. “Drink this. It’s good for you.” Viktor does without protest, taking a few tentative sips at first, then gulping it down when he finds it to his taste. He manages to finish most of the mug in one sitting, pushing Yuuri’s hands away when he has to catch a breath.

“More?” Viktor shakes his head and Yuuri switches the mug out with the little plate of breakfast pastries. “I got your favorites.” 

Viktor shakes his head again. “I can’t.” It’s a testament to how he must be feeling to turn them down. But Yuuri understands. He’s had firsthand experience with turning down his mother’s katsudon when sick. 

“Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” He sets the plate back down and picks up the TV remote instead. “Do you want to watch anything?” 

Viktor shifts in his arms, turning his head so that his forehead is resting against the hollow of Yuuri’s neck. “Whatever you want. Just want to sleep,” he mumbles. “I’m taking the day off.” The comment brings another smile to Yuuri’s face. He takes one of Viktor’s hands in his own under the blanket and squeezes tight. 

“Of course, Vitya. Sleep. I’ve got you.” The only response he gets is a small sigh of content. When Yuuri glances down, he sees that Viktor’s already dozed off, silvery eyelashes long against his snowy skin. Amused and warm with fondness, Yuuri takes a long moment to just look at him, wondering for the millionth time how he got so lucky. He flips on the TV and surfs through Netflix for something to watch. There are a couple of shows that he’d been waiting to get into. Now is as good of a time as any to start. Yuuri makes his selection and settles back into the cushions, wrapping his free arm around Viktor’s front and holds him tight.

~o~

At some point between episode five and six, Viktor stirs awake enough to use the bathroom. He insists on going alone even though he’s uncharacteristically shaky and clumsy on his feet. Yuuri makes sure to keep an eye on him and listen for any sounds of distress while he eats a leftover sandwich for lunch. The sandwich is mostly gone by the time Viktor plasters himself to Yuuri’s back, slumped so that his forehead rests against Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Feel any better?” Yuuri asks, between two mouthfuls. “Up for food yet?” He gets a groan followed by another coughing fit in reply. No, then. Or, not really. 

“I hate being sick,” Viktor whines dramatically, “Never let me drink champagne ever again.” 

Yuuri bites his lip to keep from laughing. “So the next time Chris or Yurio bring over your favorite champagne I can give them back? Or hide them for myself?” 

Viktor gasps. “No! You wouldn’t!” 

“That’s what I thought,” Yuuri says smugly, snorting when Viktor pulls away from him and trudges back to the couch, collapsing down on it face first. There are days when Yuuri questions his own taste in people. He remains in that position, bemoaning his existence to Makkachin, until Yuuri’s finished his lunch, made some more green tea for himself, and re-filled the mug with honey and ginger. Yuuri sets down the drinks on the coffee table and waits for Viktor to move. When he doesn’t, Yuuri pokes at one long leg, but doesn’t get much of a reaction. So he goes to lounge in the loveseat instead and stuffs a pillow under his head for extra comfort. 

It takes less than a minute until Viktor is draping himself over Yuuri’s front, the blanket wrapped around his shoulder like a cape. Yuuri’s arms find their way around Viktor’s back automatically. Though still slightly dazed from the fever, Viktor’s eyes are brighter and more alert than before when he props his chin on Yuuri’s chest to look up at him. “The only good part about being sick is that I have an excuse to demand cuddling for a whole day.” 

Yuuri’s eyes crinkle, charmed as always. He brings a hand up to brush the fringe off Viktor’s forehead. Viktor leans into the touch, eyes closing in pleasure. He’s definitely still feverish, but it’s nothing to be worried about. “You do it anyway.” 

“Well,” Viktor pouts, “I get a free pass then.” He shifts into a more comfortable position, ear to Yuuri’s heartbeat, a small, satisfied smile on his heart shaped mouth.

And really, Yuuri can only grin besottedly, so in love with this beautiful enigma of a human that it makes something in him ache. He strokes his hand up and down Viktor’s back and cranes his neck to kiss the top of that silvery hair. “Yes, you do, Vitya. Always.” 

It’s not long before Viktor dozes off again, relaxing into sleep. Yuuri waits to make sure he won’t disturb him before reaching out and hitting play on the TV remote. Settling back into the cushions, he sighs in gratification and allows the show’s episodes to run their course. Sometime in the middle of episode twelve, he too dozes off, arms wrapped tight around Viktor’s slumbering form and a content smile on his lips to match his fiancé. 

Outside, the snowflakes continue their gentle decent onto the already frozen ground.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://www.nostalgia-in-starlight.tumblr.com)


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